


(Never) Forever Lost

by noiproksa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Castiel Whump, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Profound Bond, Self-Made Family, Team Free Will, Temporary Amnesia, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noiproksa/pseuds/noiproksa
Summary: Hunting for a monster that takes away memories of family members, Dean, Cas, and Sam have to stay one step ahead or else fall prey to its venom.If only Cas would leave Dean alone about the thing that happened. -- Be careful what you wish for…





	1. Chapter 1

Dean had only stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes earlier to make himself a cup of joe when Cas found him.

Of course, the angel didn’t look half as terrible as Dean was feeling, but instead seemed like his normal self as if he hadn’t drunk every last bottle of alcohol they had found stored away somewhere in the bunker the night before.

Figured.

Dean was sure Cas had been tipsy, too, even though he had drunk Dean under the table…

“Dean—”

Flopping down onto a chair, Dean preemptively held up his hand to signal Cas to stop talking (or better yet, not start in the first place).

“Let’s not do this right now, okay? I have the hangover from hell…”

Before he could list more reasons why talking about the night before was a bad idea, Cas leaned over and pressed two fingers against Dean’s forehead. The pounding headache that had been killing Dean since he had woken up was gone in an instant.

“Uhm… thanks.”

Dean took a huge sip from his coffee because even though he was healed of any after effects, his mind hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that he wasn’t hungover anymore.

“I was wondering…” Cas started, who was still standing next to Dean awkwardly.

“Seriously,” Dean interrupted him once more. “Really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“Lecture? No.—I…”

Luckily, Dean’s cell phone started ringing right then and Dean, happy for the excuse, hurried to answer it, ignoring Cas’ sour expression.

“Yeah.”

_“Dean? It’s Brad.”_

Sam chose this moment to walk into the kitchen. He nodded at Dean and Cas in greeting and went for the coffee machine.

Dean made an honest effort to listen to what Brad was saying, but he got distracted as Sam and Cas started whispering to each other as to not disturb Dean’s phone call.

Since there was really no reason for Sam to know about the whole thing, Dean tried to signal Cas to stop talking by moving his hand back and forth across his neck as if he were cutting his throat.

Of course, the only one who noticed his gesture was Sam who raised his eyebrows at him.

_“…worked together on that Banshee case?”_ Brad was saying on the phone.

“Yeah, of course I remember you guys,” Dean said. They had met the cousins a couple of years ago in… “Iowa, right? How’s Chris doing?”

Dean watched Sam dragging Cas out of the kitchen, having interpreted his ‘stop talking’ sign the wrong way.

He was about to follow them to make sure that chatty Cassie didn’t say anything about… anything, when Brad said, _“Actually, we need your help.”_

***

“So, there’s no way to get Chris’ memories of Brad back?” Dean asked Sam, who was skimming over whatever he had found about the monster on the Internet.

They were all sitting in the library, trying to come up with a plan to help their hunter friends—so far, in vain.

Sam nodded, reading out, “Once the Storgephagos consumes the memories, they’re gone for good.”

“Damn,” Dean swore, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So, Chris is missing half his life because of that monster, and Brad… well, he basically lost the closest thing he had to a brother.”

Annoyed that they had hit a dead end so quickly when he had promised Brad that they would help, Dean muttered, “They should have called us earlier. What are we supposed to do about it _now_?”

“Maybe we should focus on finding a way for Chris to keep the few memories of Brad he has left instead of searching for a way to reverse it,” Sam suggested.

“Maybe we should just kill the monster,” Dean countered. “See if that reverses the effects.”

“It has already fed off those memories,” Cas butted in. “They are gone.”

“Well, it still needs to be taken care of,” Dean said. “We can’t let it do that to anyone else.”

They were silent for a moment, trying to decide what their next step should be.

“So, this Sarcophagus…” Dean began.

“Storgephagos,” Sam corrected him promptly.

“Whatever—can we just call it ‘coffin monster’?”

“That would be highly inaccurate,” Cas pointed out, “since its name loosely translates to ‘eater of familial love.’”

“Well, that’s a mouthful, I think I’m gonna stick with ‘coffin monster.’ So, this coffin monster…” Dean trailed off, waiting for Sam to jump in with the relevant information they’d need for ganking it.

Sam didn’t disappoint as he immediately rattled off, “It takes away the victim’s memories of a blood relative by latching on to the love between them and feeding off that love.”

“Whoa, hold up there, ‘blood relative’?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. “You mean, like brothers?”

“Yeah. Brothers, sisters, parents, children. Cousins, obviously…”

“Or _brothers_,” Dean repeated more firmly, motioning between Sam and himself.

“Oh.” Sam finally seemed to get what Dean was getting at.

"Well, we're definitely not going in there, guns ablazing, and risk the coffin monster making us forget each other.”

So much for plan A…

“Aw,” Sam said, turning towards Cas. “Did he just admit that he loves me?”

Cas, of course, just frowned at him.

“Fuck off!” Dean grumbled.

Cas was still squinting at them. “I do not understand the problem,” he stated. “He has admitted his love for you before.”

That made Dean turn around to glare at _him_.

“You’re on my list, too, buddy,” he declared, which apparently only served to confuse the angel more.

“What list?”

Sam snickered. “The list of people he _loves_.”

Picking up the book about old mystical creatures that was lying on the table in front of him, Dean threw it at Sam in retaliation, but his brother just ducked out of the way and laughed harder.

“Seriously, though,” Dean said, trying to get them back on track. He pointed at Sam, deciding, “You’re staying here. Cas and I'll take care of it."

“That won’t work,” Cas shot down that idea.

When Dean just raised his eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation, he continued, “It’s not about whether Sam is there or not. The Storgephagos can still go after your memories of him.—I think it would be best if I were to go alone.”

“No,” Dean immediately declined.

Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at him. “No?” he repeated.

“Yes, ‘no,’” Dean said gruffly and a bit annoyed because only Cas could come up with a plan that would most likely put the angel in danger while keeping Dean and Sam out of harm’s way. “No, as in that's a stupid idea and we're not doing that. Moving on.”

“What if we use a spell?” Sam suggested. When both Dean and Cas turned to him, he explained, “A memory spell to take our memories of each other away and then, after the hunt, we reverse it. I think I heard Rowena mention a spell like that once.”

“There.” Dean looked at Cas as he gestured towards Sam. “_That _is an idea that’s not monumentally stupid.”

After a moment of contemplation, he added, “Although, that _would_ take away the memories of most of our lives.”

That would most probably not prove very helpful in a fight against a monster.

“There might be an Enochian spell that can help,” Cas said. “A spell to protect the bond between relatives. You would not forget each other, but the fact that you are family will be hidden from those you wish to hide it from.”

“Man, angels are weird,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Why would you have a spell for that?”

The only answer he got was a dark look from Cas.

Two hours later, they were getting ready to hit the road to hunt themselves a monster that fed on memories.

As they carried their duffle bags to the Impala, an uneasy feeling was gnawing at Dean.

With a shake of the head, he tried to dispel the feeling.

They had taken precautions; Cas had enchanted both Sam’s and Dean’s watch with the Enochian protection spell so that the monster would not be able to steal their memories as long as they were wearing them.

What could possibly go wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

“Is taking our watches off really such a good idea?” Sam questioned their plan.

“Got a better one to lure the monster in?” Dean retorted as he set up a circle of holy oil in the old barn outside of town, near where Brad had reported that they had encountered the monster.

“I am not comfortable with this plan, either,” Cas stated as he squinted at the repurposed angel trap.

“Well, you heard Brad,” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. “Fire seems to be the only weapon that works. No bullets, no knives, no stakes, no blades … Doesn’t leave us with many options.”

By the time they had arrived in Iowa, the last of Chris’ memories of Brad had been gone, which had made for some awkward moments because Chris had still remembered meeting them, but since Brad had been a part of those memories, they were fuzzy at best.

Chris had excused himself quickly, claiming to have a headache, but Dean knew that he had just been uncomfortable. Since he didn’t even remember Brad, he basically had to take a stranger at his word and believe him that they were even related.

Now that the monster had feasted on Chris’ memories of Brad and had gotten every last one of them, it would move on and try to find new prey, which meant that they had to act fast before the monster disappeared, moving to a different town or even state.

“Using ourselves as bait sounds a bit risky is all I’m saying,” Sam still wouldn’t let up as he stepped inside the circle, intent on luring the monster to this very spot.

He was carrying a burning torch just in case. Dean, for his part, had brought a gun even though they knew that normal weapons wouldn’t help them in a fight against the monster. He wouldn’t need it anyway, since their fire circle would do the trick.

“That part of the plan should be safe,” Cas reassured him, finally tearing his eyes away from the circle of holy oil. “The protection spell will only be lifted shortly. As soon as the monster comes here, attracted by your sibling relationship, you can put the watches back on and you will be protected once more.”

“That’s the part of the plan _I’m_ not so sure about,” Dean said. “There have to be, like, a thousand familial relationships the monster could go after in this area. Why should it come _here_?”

Their trap was almost finished. All that was left to do was get into position and take their enchanted watches off. Maybe take a few breaths and mentally prepare themselves…

“Those relationships might be strong, but yours and your brother’s…” Cas started, but he was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind blowing Sam’s torch out.

The next second, a beast with eyes devoid of emotion had appeared in the doorway to the barn, seemingly out of nowhere. It was at least eight feet tall and walking on two legs towards them.

“Positions!” Dean screamed, but it was too late.

While they were hurrying to their designated spots, the monster was already upon them, throwing Sam out of the way onto the ground with a swipe of its huge paw-like hand.

At least the monster was in the right spot, right smack in the middle of the circle of holy oil. Dean was supposed to be the one with the lighter, but he hadn’t taken it out yet. He fumbled frantically in his pockets.

“Sam!” Dean yelled, and luckily, Sam seemed to understand.

He had taken out a box of matches and was crawling back to the circle of holy oil while trying to light one. Once the match was lit, the monster turned around to snarl at him, but Sam just dropped the burning match on the circle of holy oil, just as Cas had taken Sam’s place in fighting the monster off.

“NO!” Dean yelled, but the warning came too late. The fire had already formed a circle around Cas and the monster.

Through the flames, Dean watched helplessly as Cas and the monster—with hardly enough space inside the burning ring of fire—tried to fight each other.

Dean frantically looked around for something to put out the fire with. They hadn’t planned for this. Torch the monster, go home and celebrate their win. _That _had been the plan. The water for putting out the fire was all the way on the other side of the barn.

Looking back at the fire, Dean saw the monster and Cas at each other’s throats in a battle Cas didn’t seem to be able to win.

Without thinking, Dean took out his gun and shot two rounds into the monster’s back, knowing full well that it wouldn’t kill it, but desperate to help Cas any way he could.

Sam in the meantime had organized a bucket of water and dumped it onto the ring of fire.

As soon as the circle wasn’t closed anymore, the monster was gone, superspeed apparently one of its powers.

Dean let out a huge breath he hadn’t been aware he had been holding.

“You okay?” he called over to Cas, who stepped out of the broken circle while Sam put out the rest of the fire.

“Yes,” Cas simply replied.

“Well,” Dean said as he reached them and dusted off Cas’ trench coat, more out of necessity to make sure he really was okay than anything. “That could have gone better.”

“Why did it attack us anyway? Did the protection spell not work?” Sam asked, nodding towards the watch around Dean’s wrist.

They hadn’t even gotten around to taking their watches off before the monster had taken them by surprise.

“Dunno. Cas?”

Without asking, Cas took Dean’s wrist in his hands and closed his eyes. Exchanging a quick look with Sam, Dean shrugged his shoulders as usual when Cas did something strange, and waited.

“The spell is working. You are still protected,” Cas finally stated as he let go of Dean’s wrist again.

Still. Something had gone wrong, so Dean turned towards Sam, raising his eyebrows at him. “Did it get you?”

Sam furrowed his brows, probably to check if his memories were still there. “I don’t think so.”

“I say we regroup and come up with a better plan before it finds us again,” Dean decided.

He hadn’t quite cared for the way the monster had had its paws all over his little brother and then had proceeded to fight their angel.

On the way back to their motel, Dean asked Sam a lot of questions, checking if he still had all the memories of their life together. Comparing a lifetime of memories to make sure the monster didn’t have a hold on Sam turned out to be rather difficult, though. So far, they hadn’t found any memory lapses.

“Brad said it started slow,” Dean reminded them when Sam pointed out that he was fine and not missing any memories. “Could just be a memory of us having breakfast together ten years ago and you wouldn’t even know you’re missing a memory.”

“The Storgephagos wouldn’t start off with such an insignificant memory,” Cas butted in from the backseat of the Impala. “It would go for a more recent memory of more emotional relevance.”

“Huh,” Dean said, trying to think back to the last few days. Then he glanced over at Sam in the passenger seat and asked, “Remember me kicking your ass at game night on Friday?”

Before Sam could protest, Cas jumped in, “How is that emotionally relevant?”

“It’s a brother thing,” Dean explained, waving him off. “Tradition. I always win at game night.”

Sam snorted. “Keep dreaming.”

“I believe_ I_ am the one who beat both of you,” Cas pointed out.

Dean let out a guffaw. “Yeah, right. Are _you _starting to lose memories? I wiped the floor with your ass in poker.”

“I won the game of words,” Cas insisted.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Only because you cheated. You can’t play Scrabble with Enochian words. How would we even know if you’re just making them up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Sam said, turning back in his seat to look at Cas. “He’s just a sore loser.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, each of them lost in their thoughts, still shaken up by their encounter with the monster.

Shortly before they reached the motel, Sam glanced back at Cas and spoke up once more.

“Sorry for trapping you in holy fire.”

“That was my fault,” Cas replied. “I knew the circle was there. I merely wanted to keep the monster away from you.”

“Yeah, still…” Sam ran a hand through his hair as he looked out the window before turning back. “For a second there… I just…” He trailed off. The whole thing had to really have messed with him if even Sam couldn’t find the words.

Finally, he said, “I’d hate to lose my brother.”

Dean almost lost control of Baby for a moment as his heart rate picked up. Was he talking about Cas, referring to the angel as his ‘brother,’ or about Dean? What did he know?

He quickly glanced at Sam, trying to read his expression, but Sam was already looking out the window again.

Trying to make eye contact with Cas instead, Dean glanced into the rearview mirror, but Cas, too, wasn’t paying attention to him, looking at his own hands that were folded in his lap instead.

Either way, the whole situation was getting way too emotionally charged. Luckily, they had arrived at their destination and Dean hit the brakes.

Only when they were in their motel room, Sam in the bathroom, the running water of the shower drowning out anything they might be saying, did Dean ask, “Hey, Cas? You haven’t told Sam, have you?”

Cas squinted at him. “Told him what?”

Dean let out a relieved sigh. “Good.”

He didn’t think he was ready for that conversation just yet.

In his relief, he didn’t notice Cas’ confused expression or the way the angel was absent-mindedly rubbing his temples.


	3. Chapter 3

They quickly came to the conclusion that the best plan was to be ready for another surprise attack, which is why they set up the trap inside the motel room, took their positions, and waited for the coffin monster to come at them again.

Once it zeroed in on a victim, it didn’t stop until it had a grip on its memories. So they were pretty confident that the monster would return, especially since this time, they even got to the last part of the plan—taking off their enchanted watches.

Only sitting there, staring at the door and playing with the lighter was getting old fast, and a couple hours in, Dean sighed and turned towards Sam, who was clearly at fault here.

“Maybe you should think about how awesome I am and why you love me so much,” he suggested.

“You’re making it so easy,” Sam deadpanned with an eye-roll. “Who even says that it wasn’t after _you_?”

“What are you talking about? It clearly went after _you_.”

Cas groaned. When Dean looked over to his hiding spot behind the door, the angel was rubbing his forehead, wrinkles of pain etched on his face.

“Angel radio?”

“Headache,” Cas replied.

Something tugged at the back of his mind, but Dean chased it away and joked instead, “Angel with a migraine, huh? You haven’t drunk a liquor store while we weren’t looking, have you?”

“No, I haven’t had any alcohol in months.”

Which was a bald-faced lie, of course, but Dean couldn’t very well call him on it with Sam right there.

Another couple of hours and Dean’s limbs were starting to cramp up from crouching near the circle of holy oil. He was getting too old for this shit.

Since they couldn’t sit there waiting all night for a monster that might or might not show up, they eventually gave up, putting their watches on again and warding the motel room against all kinds of evil. For good measure, they added some protection spells to make sure the coffin monster couldn’t sneak up on them while they were unprepared again. They had to rest sometime, after all.

Cas and Sam were sitting at the table, doing some more research while Dean was lying on one of the double beds, flipping through the channels, looking for something good and snacking on a bag of chips. (He would have helped out, but apparently, laughing at the image of a monster that looked like it had big boobs was “Not helpful, Dean.”)

“Hey, Cas, your favorite Western is on,” he called over as he finally put the remote down, settling in for a fun evening of watching cowboys shoot at each other.

Sam looked over at the screen and snorted. “That’s _your_ favorite Western.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean waved him off and addressed Cas again. “You gonna park your ass over here, or what?”

“Sam?” he heard Cas ask.

Sam sighed. “Go. He’s not going to leave us alone until you do, anyway. I can continue this on my own.”

Dean grinned triumphantly and when Cas joined him, he scooted over a bit without taking his eyes off the screen.

Cas settled in next to him, squinting at the TV.

“Why would he shoot a priest?” he asked not three minutes in, tilting his head at the screen.

“Man, I already explained that the last time we watched it,” Dean complained. “Do I have to explain it all again?”

“We have not watched this movie before,” Cas stated.

“Sure we have,” Dean said as he shoved another handful of chips into his mouth and held the bag out to Cas. “See?” He pointed at the screen. “Last time you didn’t understand why he was talking about Death.”

Dean was already looking back at the screen when Sam asked from the other side of the room, a bit tentative, “Cas? The monster didn’t get you, right?”

Dean stopped chewing and felt his stomach sink and tie into knots at the realization, the comfortable, light-hearted atmosphere from a moment ago gone in an instant.

Cas was looking at Sam, but he hadn’t answered yet, which definitely wasn’t a good sign.

Dean turned off the TV and tried to establish eye contact with Cas.

“Cas…” he began, making the angel turn around to him. “Did that memory stealing son of a bitch lay a hand on you?”

Cas stared at him, eyes wide, and Dean knew the answer before Cas even opened his mouth.

“It touched my head. I thought that was weird at the time.”

“And you’re only telling us _now_?!”

Dean could barely hold himself back from yelling. He got up off the bed so he could better stare down at Cas disapprovingly, not even caring that the bag of chips ended up spilled all over the bed sheet.

“The Storgephagos is going after blood relatives,” Cas tried to justify himself. “I do not have any blood relatives. I thought I was untouchable.”

That was just typical!

“Isn’t that always the problem?” Dean mumbled as he was pacing back and forth along the small space between the bed and the table.

Cas furrowed his brows. “What?”

“No, just…” Dean trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts, even though he was pissed at Cas for getting himself in that situation. “You’re always walking around, ‘Oh, I’m an Angel, I can’t get hurt.’”

He ignored Cas’ narrowed eyes; he probably didn’t appreciate being imitated, but Dean was on a roll.

“Well, newsflash. You’re not ‘untouchable.’ You’re very… touchable.”

“Dean…” Sam began, but Dean was not in the mood to be talked down by his brother.

“And you!” Dean whirled around to point at Sam. “Don’t get me started on you!” He used a higher voice as he quoted, “‘The monster only goes after blood relatives.’ Yeah, right.”

Sam screwed up his nose. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes, ’cause _that’s_ what we want to focus on here.”

“Actually, it was the book on ancient Greek folklore that said that,” Cas threw in.

“Oh, _that_, he remembers!”

Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm down and get to the bottom of this.

“Okay. So,” he said, a bit more collected, looking at Sam for answers. “How come he doesn’t remember our movie night? As ‘Untouchable’ over there said–” He motioned over towards Cas, who was still sitting on the bed. “–we’re not related.”

He ignored Cas giving him the stink-eye for using that nickname and waited for Sam to explain.

Sam, however, didn’t seem to have the answers and only shrugged. “I don’t know. As far as I know it’s never gone after surrogate family members before, but it seems like your bond was enough for it to go after Cas’ memories of you.”

“Ya think?!—Seriously. How did you not get that? We were basically raised on the mantra that family doesn’t end with blood.”

That got him a bitchface from Sam. “How come _you_ didn’t think of it, then?”

“’Cause someone said it was only going for memories of friggin’ _blood relatives_.”

“No reason to yell,” Sam mumbled, affronted.

Taking a deep breath, Dean closed his eyes and rubbed a hand across his face.

“Okay, first things first.”

He took off his watch and held it out to Cas, who only tilted his head and stared at it, nonplussed.

“Well, _I _don’t need it anymore,” Dean explained. “If the coffin monster is locked onto you, it won’t go looking for its next victim until all of your memories of me are gone.”

“If it’s locked onto me, a spell to disguise someone’s blood relation to another person won’t help me,” Cas replied, who still wasn’t taking the watch from him. “Especially since we used your and Sam’s blood for the spell.”

Dammit!

Dean threw the watch across the room at the wall and turned his back on Cas and Sam just as he heard the satisfying sound of the watch shattering into pieces.

A few seconds ticked by in silence.

He remembered Chris looking at Brad as if he were a stranger. He remembered Brad telling them that there was no way to reverse the effects. He wondered if Cas’ memory of that visit still included Dean or not.

_It had started slow._ It wasn’t like Cas would forget him within a few hours. They had time to figure this out.

“Anyone got any better ideas?” Dean asked into the silence, his tone clipped even to his own ears.

Their original plan certainly wouldn’t work anymore. Now that the coffin monster had a hold on Cas, it didn’t need to come at them again. It could be anywhere, holed up in some lair, feeding on Cas’ memories of him. How would they even begin to search for it?

“I read somewhere that the Storgephagos uses a kind of venom to establish a psychic link with its victim,” Sam said. “Which is why it can feed off the memories even from far away. We could try to find an antidote and break the psychic hold it has on Cas?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, turning back around. That was actually a decent place to start. “We should also check in with Brad again. See what they tried. No sense in trying the same things if we already know they won’t work.”

Since all the books that might help them figure a way out of their predicament were back home, they decided not to lose any more time, so they packed their things, checked out early, and drove back to the bunker immediately.

After all, they had no idea how to even go about finding the monster, and even if they did, killing it could mean Cas’ memories would be lost forever.

Back at the bunker, it was back to the library, back to research, poring over books on mythology and memory eaters and attachment spirits…

Dean had a moment of hope when Brad called him back, but his information wasn’t really helpful. He just kept apologizing for having dragged them into this and complained about Chris, who had apparently become lethargic.

In the early morning hours, they were all tired and exhausted.

Sam was somewhere in the back of the library, searching for another stack of books they could flip through, and Dean was glancing at Cas every now and then. Every time the angel would pinch the bridge of his nose or rub at his temples, Dean wondered if there went another memory.

Just as Dean was surreptitiously glancing at Cas again, the angel looked up and held Dean’s gaze.

“I don’t want to forget you,” he said, looking more like a lost puppy than a mighty Angel of the Lord, which made Dean’s heart clench.

“You’re _not_ going to forget us,” he ground out, maybe a bit too harshly. He tried to gentle his voice as he added, “We’re gonna find an antidote and then we’re gonna kick this monster’s ass for thinking it can mess with our family. I probably haven’t read this much in one sitting since the last Vonnegut novel came out and Sam… Well, you know that Sam’s a stubborn moose. He won’t give up until we have this all figured out.”

Cas looked at him through narrowed eyes for a moment, and then he said, “Your brother is not a hoofed mammal.”

“No… I know. Thanks for reminding me. He’s still stubborn, though.”

And since Sam was currently the only one working and not having mushy conversations in the middle of the night, Dean tried to focus on the book in front of him again.

“Dean?” his attempt to get his tired eyes to focus was interrupted by Cas. “Are we…”

Dean looked up to see Cas furrow his brows.

“I don’t know the human word. _Allar gohed_?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if you remember, but I don’t speak Enochian. So no clue what you’re on about.”

Cas sighed and stared into space before his eyes found Dean again.

“Something like ‘soul bound’?” Cas tried to translate.

Dean swallowed. “What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to go for casual.

“I just feel…”

Right then, Sam joined them again, a pile of books balanced between his arms and his chin.

“So, what you got?” Dean asked.

Sam carefully set the stack of books down onto the table and sat down himself. “Apparently, there is an antidote.” He held up a hand to stop Dean from whooping and continued, “But we need more of the Storgephagos’ venom to make it—and since we don’t have the first clue where it is…”

It might very well be too late for Cas’ memories…

Dean was about to rip his brother a new one for giving him false hope when Sam added, “But I think I might have another idea.”


	4. Chapter 4

“The Storgephagos only lets go of its victim once it has eaten all the memories of the family member, right?” Sam said as if that was already the answer to all their problems.

“Yeah. I’d rather he didn’t forget me if you don’t mind,” Dean grumbled.

“So, all we have to do is make the monster _think_ that the memories are already gone,” Sam continued, still very excited about his idea, as if Dean hadn’t interrupted. “We use that spell Rowena has told me about. You know, the one that can take specific memories away.”

“That is a horrible idea,” Cas butted in, which made Sam look at him. Apparently, he hadn’t expected to have to talk Cas into it, too.

“No, see, you’ll be free of the Storgephagos,” Sam explained.

“Because I will have forgotten you.”

“Well, me,” Dean corrected him. When Cas quickly averted his eyes, Dean added, “Right?”

“I believe memories of Sam might be getting a bit fuzzy, too,” Cas admitted. “I remember us talking about some game night? But I have no recollection of it.”

“Oh, great. That’s just perfect!” Dean rubbed a hand across his face.

“It doesn’t matter, my plan still works,” Sam insisted.

“And what plan is that?” Dean asked, letting sarcasm bleed into his voice. “The one where we take away Cas’ memories ourselves instead of waiting for the coffin monster to take them?”

“And give them back once the monster doesn’t have a hold on Cas anymore,” Sam explained.

Dean exchanged a look with Cas, then turned back to Sam. “That actually sounds like it could work.”

***

“You still remember me, darling, right?” Rowena asked Cas as soon as she entered the War Room.

Cas looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Of course.”

Rowena smiled brightly. “Of course, indeed. How could you forget me?”

Dean rolled his eyes at her blatant attempt at flirting with Cas, which, as always, went right over Cas’ head. “That doesn’t mean he likes you better. It actually means the opposite in this case.”

“Oh, Dean, don’t be jealous. Just because you’re more forgettable than me doesn’t mean the angel doesn’t like you, too.”

Dean turned around to Sam, incredulous. “You did tell her about what was going on here, right?”

Rowena didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, she asked Sam, “Do you have the empty bottle to store the memories in?”

“Right here.” Dean, who had been tasked with finding one, held out an empty beer bottle.

“Really?” Sam asked.

“What? I cleaned it out.”

“This will do nicely, thank you.” Rowena snatched the beer bottle out of his hands and put it on the map table. “Now, as for my fee…” She raised her eyebrows at Dean and Sam, and held out her hand.

Dean sighed, but took out the vial of their blood. He had no idea what she wanted with that, but Cas had bled for them before, they could give their blood for him in return—even if it was to a sort of enemy, sort of ally, without any idea where her loyalties lay at any given moment.

“Thank you, dear,” Rowena said, put the vial away and took out some ingredients of her own, before she went about setting things up.

The spell itself only took a few seconds and Dean watched, fascinated, as a bright beam of light travelled from Cas’ head into the bottle until they had a glowing beer bottle full of bright light.

The second the spell was complete, Dean knew that it had worked when Cas looked at them warily.

“Okay, can we give them back or does it still have a hold on him?” Dean asked. He didn’t want to wait around for Cas to get his bearings and start questioning—or worse, attacking them.

“Should be safe,” Sam said and looked at Rowena, giving her the sign to reverse the spell.

Rowena only said a few words while opening the bottle, and there the light went, travelling back to Cas’ head.

Once the light was gone, they all stood there, watching Cas expectantly, who still looked stunned.

“Can you still feel the connection?” Sam finally asked.

Cas’ eyes zeroed in on Sam, and he tilted his head at him, inspecting him. “Where am I?”

Not what Dean had wanted to hear.

“The bunker,” he said, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Did it work?”

At that, Cas’ gaze fixed on him. “Who are you?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” Dean mumbled, and turned around to Rowena. “What the hell? What’d you do?”

Before Rowena could answer, Sam asked carefully, “You remember _her_, right?”

Right. Good idea. Cas might not remember him and Sam if the reversal of the spell hadn’t quite worked the way it was supposed to. But hopefully, he still remembered Rowena. She could explain and make him trust them.

“Yes,” Cas replied, his voice even lower than usual. “She is a conniving witch.”

“Yeah, she’s not with us,” Dean quickly said.

“Did you try to put a spell on me?” Cas asked Rowena, taking a few menacing steps towards her.

“They made me do it!” Rowena sold them out without blinking an eye, pointing at them.

The minute Cas looked back at Dean and Sam, Rowena turned tail and fled. Figured.

“I want my blood back!” Dean yelled after her, but he didn’t feel like chasing her—not when they had a skittish angel to convince that they were actually friends.

“So…” He turned back to Cas, who wasn’t taking his eyes off of them, still eying them with an expression devoid of emotion. “Cas—tiel,” Dean quickly added when Cas was narrowing his eyes even further. “That witch, huh? Just goes around stealing memories and then blames us innocent humans.”

“You don’t remember right now, but we’re actually really close,” Sam jumped in. “See, a Storgephagos got to you…”

“Angels aren’t ‘close’ with humans,” Cas countered.

“Yeah, well, you are with _these _humans.” Dean used his thumbs to point to Sam and himself, cracking a smile, which was not appreciated by the angel.

Cas didn’t seem convinced, and Dean was almost certain he was about to walk out on them—if he didn’t try to smite them first. So, he quickly tried to get him to understand, “C’mon, man. You have to know that there are huge lapses in your memory going back the last few years. I mean, why are you even hanging around on Earth, huh?”

At last, something that seemed to give Cas pause.

“You even have a room here,” Sam came to his help. “We can show you.”

He lead the way and Cas hesitantly followed, even though Dean knew that, stubborn angel that he was, Cas was about to say something like ‘Angels don’t have rooms.’

“Well, you do,” he said, clapping Cas on the back before the angel slowly turned his head to look at him and Dean thought it wiser to take his hand off the angel.

“Humans do not have the ability to read thoughts,” Cas stated slowly, and Dean realized that he should not have spoken up before Cas got around to saying his piece.

“Not reading thoughts here,” Dean clarified. “That’s just how well I know you.”

They arrived at Cas’ room and Dean wished that Cas had personalized his room more. It was really just an empty room with some furniture—they could show Cas any room in the bunker and claim it was his. How was the angel to know that it actually _was_ his room?

But it turned out he was worrying over nothing because as soon as Cas saw the room, he took a few steps inside and said, “I remember sitting here.”

“See? Told ya. It’s your room.” Dean tried another smile, but it fell flat again.

“Why don’t you relax a bit in here, maybe some memories will come to you,” Sam suggested. “Dean and I will try to get this sorted out. Get you your missing memories back.”

“Dean?” Cas repeated.

“Yeah. Ring any bells?” Dean asked, hopefully.

Cas didn’t answer, just turned back around to inspect the room some more—as if there was much to look at. He was apparently even less chatty than usual.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” Sam introduced himself. “But hopefully, you’ll remember soon enough anyway.”

Dean didn’t feel like it was a great idea to leave Cas alone. He was kind of worried that the angel would do a runner, which was what he was good at even _with_ all his memories. But they needed to get a hold of Rowena, who apparently wasn’t Cas’ favorite person, and make a plan that involved talking about Cas, which was better done without the angel overhearing.

So, he winked at Cas to show him that they were great pals and that he was safe here, and left with Sam for the War Room to figure out what the hell had gone wrong here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there’s still someone around, even though it’s been a while.

**Author's Note:**

> On hiatus for now. I kind of lost interest when there was no interest in this fic.


End file.
